Louis quickly calculated his "harvest" from the past few days in his mind.
If his understanding of the "embers of destruction" was correct, his current reserves should be more than enough.
The leader in the auto repair shop who had been burned to a crisp by "fire magic," a large group of thugs who lost their lives in the gunfight, and Randall, who had just been executed by Carol with a single shot in the barn... this was a significant gain.
Though it was a bit strange that he didn't hear the voices of the dead as clearly as before.
"Maybe it's because they died so cleanly this time, without generating much resentment?"
Louis muttered to himself, but didn't dwell on it.
Now was not the time to fret over theory.
He hesitated no longer, flicked his wand, and skillfully chanted the incantation:
"Revealing Spell!"
The leather on the inner wall of the case rippled like water once more.
Louis's eyes widened slightly—it lit up!
That line of silver riddles resurfaced.
Only... Louis keenly noticed that the light this time seemed much dimmer than that night at the factory, even carrying an unstable flicker, like a light bulb with insufficient voltage that could go out at any moment.
"How could this be? Is it because the quality of the 'fuel' this time is mediocre?"
Or was simple death not the only measure?
Looking back at the two experiences of opening it, the battle at the auto repair shop ended too quickly, and those thugs died too cleanly, perhaps even finishing without feeling anything.
In contrast, the group at the factory suffered mental breakdowns and the collapse of their faith before dying, going through quite a few ups and downs before finally breathing their last.
"Does this case not feed on 'life,' but on the 'emotions' of those people before they die?"
Louis placed a question mark in his mind, but this was currently just a guess that couldn't be verified.
However, though the light was faint, it was at least lit. This meant the passage could be opened.
"Whatever, I'll try it first!"
There was no time to lose. Louis didn't have time to study the loss rate of energy conversion; he hurriedly pulled a stack of letters he had prepared long ago from a compartment in his backpack.
These were "letters for help" he had wracked his brains to write during his free time over the past month.
Because he wasn't sure if they could be sent, or how many could be sent, he had specifically made many copies after writing them. As long as the other party received one, he would consider it a success.
"Go! I hope they reach!"
Louis gritted his teeth and slammed the thick bundle of letters against the line of glowing text.
"Buzz!"
A slight vibration came through, and his fingertips touched that layer of cold emptiness. The letters instantly vanished into the mist at the bottom of the case.
Louis was overjoyed and was about to strike while the iron was hot, pressing down on the line of text to shout a few more words.
However—
"Sizzle."
Before he could speak, the already dim silver light at the bottom of the case suddenly flickered violently and then went out completely without warning.
Then, a sudden change occurred!
"Bang!!"
The heavy lid of the leather case was slammed down as if by an invisible giant hand, letting out a loud bang and snapping shut automatically!
"Holy crap!"
Louis was startled and pulled his hand back almost instinctively.
"..."
Silence returned to the room.
Louis looked at the old leather case, which had returned to its ordinary appearance, with lingering fear, his heart pounding.
That's... it?
Not even giving enough time for a single sentence?
Louis swallowed, cautiously reached out, unlatched the case again, and slowly lifted the lid.
The line of silver light had vanished, leaving only a dark, charcoal-like mass at the bottom of the case.
"What is this?"
...Meanwhile.
Hogwarts Castle, an abandoned girls' bathroom on the second floor.
The bubbling sound of potion boiling echoed in the stall, and the air was filled with a foul smell like rotting cabbage.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were squeezed into a narrow stall, watching the cauldron that was still emitting murky bubbles.
At Harry's feet, the worn-out leather case lay quietly on the wet floor tiles.
"Harry, I really can't figure it out."
Ron complained while stirring the cauldron, looking at the case, "Why have you been carrying this case everywhere lately?"
"And after it ate all your textbooks last time, you're still willing to put things in it?"
"It's precisely because I lacked experience last time that I have to be prepared this time," Harry wiped the fog from his glasses and explained seriously, "The case lit up so suddenly then that I could only throw in the textbooks I had on hand."
"But those books probably weren't much help except for starting a fire."
"So I put some food and potions in ahead of time. In case the person on the other side asks for help again, they can access these truly life-saving items at any time."
"Harry..."
Hermione poked her head out from behind the steam rising from the cauldron, her brow furrowed with a look of worry:
"While I shouldn't discourage your kindness, I think you should listen to professional advice."
"Remember that day when we originally wanted to ask Headmaster Dumbledore, but ended up bumping into other Professors in the hallway?"
Hermione reminded him patiently: "Even though you used the excuse that a friend had found a mystical item to test the waters, Professor McGonagall was very clear."
"The wizarding world does have tools for cross-spatial communication and teleportation, but they aren't common."
"And Professor Snape."
Ron shrank his neck, seemingly recalling a bad memory. "The look in that old bat's eyes then was like he wanted to swallow Harry whole."
"If Professor McGonagall hadn't stopped him, I think he would have searched you on the spot on the grounds of possessing contraband."
"And even Professor Lockhart said..." Hermione sighed. "This is very likely a typical echo trap."
"He said these Dark Arts items simulate cries for help, specifically exploiting a Wizard's compassion to devour the valuables they put in."
"Oh, come off it, Hermione."
Ron couldn't help but roll his eyes at the name. "If that's the conclusion Lockhart reached, then I'm even more convinced there's nothing wrong with the case."
"After all, the guy couldn't even handle a few Cornish pixies and made Harry's bones disappear. You actually believe him?"
"Ron!"
Hermione immediately retorted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, her face turning red. "You can't say that! Professor Lockhart just wasn't prepared that day!"
"He's a recipient of the Order of Merlin, Third Class, and his books are full of such great adventures..."
"Yeah, yeah, the great smiling adventurer." Ron curled his lip.
"Stop arguing."
Harry interrupted their argument, his gaze never leaving the case.
"I know it might be a scam," Harry said quietly, "but... what if?"
"If it's fake, I'll only lose some food and a few potions."
"But what if it's real?"
Harry looked up, his green eyes sparkling. "If there really is someone in the dark waiting to be saved, I can't just pretend I didn't hear them because I'm afraid of being scammed or breaking school rules."